Hello! So... this is my first try at this. It's not yet finished, but I do have a couple of chapters written already. First of all, thank you for showing the interest - I hope you'll enjoy it. Second of all, keep in mind, that English isn't my first language, so bear with me, if the wording is a little off. I would like to know, however, if you find a mistake and have a better idea. Third of all, I'm still trying to actually find my type of writing, so it might not be flawless. Fourth of all, this story is set after the ending of season seven, but Steve's doesn't have radiation poisoning and Rachel is still with step-Stan. I'll try to involve all characters. Fifth of all, I would like to know what you think, so if you'll leave a review, I'd be honored. Sixth of all, have fun. /Le Val.

Chosen Family

"That him?" the dark haired man asked the other by his side. Instinctively, he shrunk in his seat behind the wheel of the old rust bucket of a van he had stolen to carry out the job. His friend nodded and lowered the binoculars as he too let his body sink deep into the worn out seats. It wasn't an easy task when you were taller and heavier than the average man. Standing tall, he could easily reach six feet and five inches and with all the muscles under his skin, he had a fighting weight of two-fifty pounds.

"Short man with gun and badge, who likes his hair and his ties," he confirmed with a drawl as he handed the driver a picture taken from a distance. The driver could quite keep up with the passenger's height and weight, as he was merely five-ten tall and two hundred pounds heavy. They had been working together for almost half a year and their business was highly sought out for.

"Who wears ties in Hawaii?" the driver grunted when he accepted the picture and looked it over before scrutinizing the man further down the road, who was waiting by the car with his hands on his hips. He moved his mouth, but the two men couldn't make out the words. The slight breeze carried them the other way.

"Now all we need is the…" the passenger started out quietly before he paused and smiled as the teenage girl appeared next to the car and scooted around to the passenger side.

"How do you wanna do this?" the driver asked and glanced at his friend. The girl was also on the picture and it looked to be fairly recent. Long, darkish hair, blue t-shirt and white shorts, which complemented the girl's skin tone. She was the complete opposite of her father, the driver noticed. Sometimes genetics were difficult to understand.

"Follow the car, but keep your distance. He's an experienced detective and we don't want to spook him just yet," the passenger replied and they sat up straighter as Detective Danny Williams entered the car and took off a moment later. The driver pulled the van onto the road and concentrated on not getting too close. Their van was easily recognizable with just as much rust as grey paint and dents.

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Danny pulled the car into his partner's driveway and slowed to a stop before cutting the engine. Grace was already halfway up the steps to the porch when he closed his door, welcoming the breeze. Days like these, sunny, humid and breezy could make every weekend seem like a vacation. And this weekend he had Grace and Steve had invited them over for a barbeque. Only thing missing to make this Friday perfect, was Charlie, who was on a play date on the other side of the city.

"Hey, Danny," Steve greeted as the detective walked into the house. He was in the process of taking off a red and green checkered apron one handed, as he walked into the living room, carrying to beers in the other. The apron seemed to do the trick for the light grey t-shirt he was wearing. Danny smiled at the sight, his partner, the navy SEAL was cooking, no – baking.

"Hey, what's up? You cooking up some more C4 for our next case?" Danny asked as he looked past the taller man. Steve laughed and tossed the apron over a chair before handing one of the bottles to his friend. Grace had already taken over the mixing of the ingredients, eager for something to do. Steve was mildly impressed, that she was texting on her phone simultaneously.

"Try chocolate cake," he replied as they twisted off the caps.

"That's funny, coming from you," Danny joked and let his bottle clink Steve's before taking a swig of the much needed beverage. The last week had been tough, with almost no rest and hundreds of dead end leads and spent shell casings. "All you need now is the hat," he commented. "You got the fire going? I've been starving since Tuesday," he continued and took another sip.

"Actually, I was just about to go pick up the meat," Steve replied when Danny's phone screamed for attention. Danny cringed when he looked at the caller ID and answered the phone with a tense face.

"Rachel, what can I do for you?" he asked as he breathed out. "Why? Where are you? I thought you wanted to do that?" he said and paused before he breathed out another sigh. "No, no, I'll take care of it… just text me the address," was his last response before ending the call. Steve looked on in wonder.

"Something wrong?" he asked when Danny handed him back his beer.

"Gotta go pick up my son from his play date. Apparently, Rachel is out with friends, already having consumed at least three glasses of wine, judging by the slur in her voice," Danny spoke quietly. Steve noticed Danny's tone and instantly knew his mood had been knocked down several notches.

"Alright, you go pick up Charlie. Grace and I will make dinner. I'll keep this cold," he said and gestured to the bottle in his hand.

"You do that. I can pick up the meat on the way back, if you want?" he offered and grabbed the keys out of his pocket when a text made his phone beep. "Won't be more than half an hour," he promised, keeping the tone light.

"Sure, okay… it's in the store, on the corner three blocks down. There's an order in my name. Drive safe," Steve mentioned as Danny walked to the door. He turned around with a lifted finger.

"Safe…" he chuckled. "I think that's relative," he mused. "Just stay out of trouble!" he called over his shoulder when he opened the door and walked out.

"Danno… she's fifteen years old and glued to her phone in the kitchen. How much trouble can she get into?" Steve asked from the doorway.

"Yeah, I know, she'll be fine. I was talking to you," he replied when he entered his car and moments later took off. Steve couldn't help the smile as he shook his head and closed the door. They may not be related by blood, but Danny was his brother, like Grace and Charlie and the rest of the team was his ohana.

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The driver and his passenger had a clear view of the house, the detective and his daughter had entered. They were silent when nothing happened for a few minutes and the driver were a bit confused when the detective left again, leaving the daughter at the house with another man, they had caught a glimpse off in the door.

"What's the plan?" he asked the passenger, not taking his eyes of the house. "Should I follow him?" he asked, his hand ready to turn the key again.

"No, we'll grab her now. Ten minutes, tops. You take the back," the passenger said and produced a gun from the small of his back. He checked the magazine and chamber before thumbing the safety off. The driver did the same, before he retrieved the roll of duct tape and the hunting knife from the floor between them.

"What about the other man?" the driver asked before maneuvering the van into the driveway.

"Doesn't matter. Collateral damage. Just don't make too much of a mess. We don't want the nosy neighbors calling the police," the passenger replied and exited the van when it came to a halt.

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Grace had mixed the rest of the cake and now it was tucked away safely in the oven and she was preparing a green salad while Steve was out back, getting the barbeque fired up. A thought occurred to her and she stepped back to look in the freezer. Not finding what she needed she walked to the back of the house and poked out her head.

"Uncle Steve, where do you keep the garlic bread?" she asked and the tall man straightened up as he put the grin on top of the burning coal.

"In the freezer," he replied and proceeded to put the lid on.

"There's nothing there," she replied and Steve glanced over at her.

"Call Danno and have him bring some back," he replied and took a sip of the beer before checking the fire again. Grace turned around on her heals and walked back to the kitchen, already dialing her father.

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Danny answered the phone on the second ring. He had already picked up Charlie and they were just about to park in front of the store on the corner.

"Hey, monkey," he answered and opened his seatbelt.

"Danno, can you bring back some garlic bread? Uncle Steve doesn't have any," Grace asked and Danny's brows furrowed.

"You sure? You checked the freezer?" he asked and heard the sounds of doors opening and shutting.

"Yeah, twice. Nothing here, except for Aloe gel, superglue and a blanket," Grace sighed into the phone.

"What? Why? Let me talk with the Neanderthal for a minute," Danny sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Charlie was in the back of the car, playing with his toys. In the moment, the soldier was winning the fight against the dinosaur. Danny had been told numerous times that the soldier was named Super Soldier SEAL Steve and had abilities like a certain superhero in red and blue.

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"Uncle Steve, Danno wants to talk with you," Grace called when she walked to the back of the house. Steve met her in the doorway and accepted the pink phone in her outstretched hand. She returned to the vegetables in the kitchen as Steve walked into the house and found the apron to dust the coal off his hands.

"Yeah, Danny?" he required with the phone trapped between his ear and his shoulder as he rubbed the cloth on the black spots on his hands. At that same moment, a knock on the door caught his attention.

"Why on earth would you keep Aloe gel, superglue and a blanket in your freezer?" was the first thing he heard as he walked to the door.

"It's practical. A cold blanket for heat strokes, Aloe gel for burns… hold on, someone's at the door," he explained and tossed the apron on the armrest of the couch before he reached for the handle and pulled the door open. The first he noticed was the gun pointed right at him and he froze, his thoughts darting to Grace who was humming in the kitchen. He had to raise his eyes to find the face behind the weapon, a stern looking man with a weathered face. Probably from years in the sun, grime and dust. Also, the right ear was missing the top, the line scarred and jagged, like it had been chewed off. The phone still in his hand, his fingers twitched and the man sneered, catching a glimpse of the weapon on Steve's hip.

"Don't even think about it, boet," he said, his voice quiet and cold as the blanket in the freezer. His English was flawless and slightly accented. Steve's face had morphed into what Danny would have called the classic aneurism-face but the next sound brought fear into his eyes. Grace shrilling voice reached him like a mix of a yelp and a scream and Steve spun around, already reaching for his weapon. The phone, momentarily forgotten, had dropped to the floor and bounced underneath the couch.

"Grace!" he managed to yell before a sickening thud to the back of his skull made him stagger and fall to his knees with a grunt. Grace appeared in the doorway with a scrawny man behind her. Her eyes were wide and tearful and a few drops of blood trickled down her throat from where a hunting knife was pressed to her skin. The man had darker features, but his skin just as leathery, his face hovering just above Grace's left shoulder. A scar ran across the back of the hand on the knife, muscles tense under the skin. The only thing going through his mind was that he could not let anything happen to Grace. He had come to care for her, like she was his niece by blood. She was ohana, family, like Danny and Charlie. Steve reacted in only a split second as he drew his firearm on one knee and pulled the trigger, all in one motion. Instinctively, he knew he didn't have any time to hesitate and he trusted himself enough to actually make the shot. Despite the fuzziness in his ears, he managed to make it a perfect headshot, relying purely on his muscle memory. A second later, he felt it, too. Just after squeezing the trigger, white hot pain seared through his right side and made him crumble. The scrawny man dropped to the floor as if he was boneless. Grace screamed and jumped away from the dead man, who was now sporting a third eye between the other lifeless eyes.

"Uncle Steve!" Grace called, her voice trembling and on the edge of crying. Steve ignored the flaring pain in his side as he stumbled to his feet and raised his weapon at the bigger man who had slowly walked around. He seemed calm, despite of the two shots that had just been fired. The outside of Steve's sight was already fading, but his feeble attempt at aiming was swiftly discarded when a boot connected with his hand and sent his gun flying to the bottom of the stairs. Steve charged at the man, even before the foot had come back down and managed to drive his shoulder into the man's big, but muscled bulk and send them both into the door, slamming it shut with a loud bang and involuntary grunts from both parts. Grabbing a hold of the man's arm Steve sent the man flying over his shoulder and crashing into the coffee table only to be dragged down with him. The table collapsed underneath the weight of the two men.

"Grace, run!" Steve yelled. It came out like a mix of a growl and roar before a mean uppercut sent him flying backwards into the TV. Both Steve and the TV fell to the floor, one of them with a groan and the other with a loud crash. Grace, momentarily frozen like a deer caught in the headlights, yelped when the bear sized man turned to her, panting and grunting, with blood running down from his left eyebrow. The entire left side of his face was covered in blood and he tried to wipe some of it out of his eyes. Grace's mind flicked back on and she ran to the closest exit she could think of – up the stairs. The big man followed, his footsteps heavier than lead as he stumbled up the stairs. Seeing this, Steve leaped to his feet and crossed the distance in three steps. He wasn't far behind and managed to grab the man's foot and trip him, just as he reached the Grace's arm, halfway up the stairs. Fortunately, she stayed on her feet when the man turned around and launched himself at Steve and the two of them plummeted down the stairs in a mess of tangled limbs and heavy groans. Grace watched from the top of the stairs, how Steve used his foot to push of the extra weight off his other leg when an elbow caught him just above the ear and sent him sprawling on the floor. The big man pushed himself to his knees and crawled closer to Steve, whose head was lolling and eyes flickering around the room. The blood on his shirt growing with every second he laid there, every heartbeat. With a heavy grunt, the big man towered above him and engulfed his throat with his strong hands. Steve clawed at the hands, but little did it help. Mind in overdrive, he focused on the man's right ear, which seemed very familiar. He was positive he had never seen the man before, though. His vision was going fuzzy, and his strength faded with every heartbeat as the blood seeped out of him. Muffled and far away, he registered the terrified cries of Grace. She was calling his name. Uncle Steve. Then a series of muted pops released the pressure on his neck and the bear sized man fell to the side. Steve coughed and spluttered, but he did not have the energy to move. His hearing came back in a fast paced whooshing and constant ringing. In the corner of his eyes, Grace was standing at the bottom of the stairs, his gun in her tiny hands and her expression made Steve connect the dots in his oxygen starved brain.

"Grace," he whispered and wished he could make it all better in a heartbeat, but the blackness was threatening to pull him down. He could taste blood in his mouth, feel it run down his cheek and coughed. He repeated the name and every time his voice became weaker. Suddenly she was hovering by his side and the air was sucked out of him, when she pressed hard on the bleeding on his right side.

"No, no, no, Uncle Steve, stay awake, please… please," she mumbled through the heavy tears. She hardly noticed the door being flung open, before she was pushed back by police officers.

Hello again! So, what's the verdict? Should I continue or is it not worth it? Hit the button and let me know. /Le Val.